


A Taste Of Sherbet

by Elorasgame



Category: Wooden Overcoats
Genre: M/M, My first fic, sorry i know it's bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 04:56:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9703229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elorasgame/pseuds/Elorasgame
Summary: Eric Chapman needs a shovel. And company. and fortunately, help is here equipped with a Shovel. Unfortunately, that happens to be Rudyard Funn.





	

-“Now look here Chapman!” Rudyard stomped across the graveyard towards his rival. “You can’t just steal a funeral away from me then call Georgie to bring your shovel! She works for Funn Funerals, not Chapman’s.” Rudyard sneered as he halted opposite Chapman, opposite sides to where the grave would be dug, he huffed and dropped the shovel on the ground at his feet. Trying his hardest to not flinch when the shovel landed on his foot.

Eric Chapman held back a smile as he saw Rudyard’s slight grimace. He shook his head in disbelief. Why was Rudyard even here when he contacted Georgie for the shovel. he called Georgie to get his receptionist to bring his shovel. Not Georgie, and definitely not Rudyard.

“First of all, i didn’t steal your funeral Rudyard! For the last time, the client came to me, And second.” Eric sighed shifting his weight to his other leg and gesturing to the shovel that lay on the ground. “That’s not even my shovel. And why are you even here Rudyard? I called Georgie to get Alice, my secretary, to bring my shovel to dig the grave. Alice wouldn’t answer her phone, again so Georgie was the second option. So why are you here?” They now had decent phone signal across the island, since Georgie wouldn’t stop bringing it up in every meeting. Mayor Desmond finally gave in and you will barely see him without his phone in hand.

“Well! Georgie said you needed your shovel, and i was not going to let you persuade her into your scheming against me. So there’s your shovel- My shovel. Because your secretary wouldn’t let me take yours- and you can now dig yourself a grave!” Rudyard kicked the shovel towards Chapman, not hard enough to hit him - yet, but just so it was closer to Chapman than himself.

Rudyard turned to trudge away. He may not have gotten the funeral, but at least Chapman didn’t have Georgie, or a decent shovel! he snickered to himself at that thought, the handle was temperamental and detached on occasion.

“Wait, Rudyard. Why don’t you stay? I’d love the company, digging graves isn’t the most fun of jobs. I have hot coffee and snacks if you’d care to stay?” Chapman really didn’t like digging graves on the best of days, and well, it would be nice to have someone different for company.

Rudyard stopped in his tracks, turning his head, he raised an eyebrow when he eventually managed to speak through the confusion that was so evident on his face. “...Why?” Rudyard scrunched his nose, showing his distaste.

“Well snacks are important, i’m going to be here a while and i’ll need the energy. But you’re very welcome to them instead, but it will take me longer.” Chapman responded with a matter-of-fact tone, missing Rudyards wavelength. Coming to realisation, he spoke again. “...Ohh! You wonder why i’m asking you to stay? Company. Always makes time go quicker don’t you think Rudyard?” He gave a small smile.

Always with the nicey-nice! How does he do it? Rudyard stood there watching Chapman through narrowed eyes, his armour has to have a chink somewhere, he can’t be this perfect all the time. Rudyard corrected his thoughts, he can’t be this perfectly kind all the time. Rudyard threw his arms in the air. “Fine, i’ll stay seen as you twisted my arm.” He saw Chapman about to speak but cut him off “Bring any Sherbet Dib-Dabs?” He spoke, stepping over the shovel and past Chapman to rest on the bench nearby.

“Unbelievable...” Was all Chapman said before passing the snacks to Rudyard and began to dig.

“Will you stop that?” Rudyard scowled at Chapman, looking up from his coffee.

“Stop what?” Chapman responded, rolling his eyes at Rudyard. What had he managed to do this time?

“The whistling and the humming and the generally having a good time! If you don’t stop it, this will be your grave!” Rudyard waving his free hand in Chapman’s direction. How dare he have a good time working! Little did he realise, he was far too animate and his movements sent his coffee sloshing over the side of the travel mug and over his shirt. “Now look what you made me do!” He raised his voice and slammed the almost empty cup on the bench next to him.

“I am sorry for passing the time and keeping occupied while you sit there in silence and eat all my food.” He spoke quietly, annoyance setting in as he looked over to see Rudyard spill the coffee. He forced the shovel into the ground, he was nearly done digging anyway and climbed his way out. Fetching a napkins from the bag, he continued to hand one to Rudyard and use another to pat his coffee stained shirt.

“Get off me!” Another scowl apparent on Rudyard’s face and Chapman backed away, hands in the air in surrender. Letting Rudyard carry on by himself was the best way to go it seemed.

“Fine.” Chapman responded, resigning. He dropped onto the dry half of the bench and poured himself the remainder of the coffee from the flask.

Rudyard stood at the moment Chapman took a seat and muttered incoherently to himself. Chapman managed to make out “I’m going home.” And “I want my shovel back.” However, what Rudyard didn’t pay attention to, was not the fact that the shovel was still in the grave but that it was Rudyard’s very temperamental shovel. He gave it a tug and the head of the shovel, still in place, detached from the handle which caused Rudyard to tumble into the grave, limbs flailing as he shouted “CHAPMAN!”

Watching the whole things, Chapman took a sip from his coffee, exclaimed that it had gone cold then proceeded to make his way to the edge of the grave. “Need a hand?” Chapman held his hand out to help Rudyard out, Rudyard was smaller than Chapman and wouldn’t be able to navigate his way out of the grave any time soon.

“No. I like it down here.” Rudyard began to try fitting the shovel back together, after a few minutes, the separate parts were flung out of the grave with a thud and the sound of gravel as Rudyard slid down the side of the wall and rested his chin on his knees.

“I don’t have time for this Rudyard, i have a funeral in-” Chapman looked at his watch, time had gone quickly today. “Less than 4 hours so i need you out so this can be a final resting place for Mr Butterick, unless you would prefer to accompany him for all of eternity?” Chapman’s patience was wearing thin and annoyance showed through in his voice. “Now will you just come out of there?” Chapman held out his hand once again, and after a few minutes of deliberation, Rudyard finally took it. However, Chapman was not paying attention and as Rudyard tried to hoist himself out, Chapman fell straight into the grave and landed on top of Rudyard with an “Oomph.”

Both men turned darker shades of red as time passed and neither made move to get up. It was a few moments until both came to the realisation of what happened and they started to scramble away from one another, however, there wasn’t much room.

Rudyard cleared his throat and began to speak “Give me a boost, you can get out without my he-” However he was cut off by Chapman, who looked more red than he had ever seen, he looked flustered but spoke anyway “Your shirt is still wet from the coffee and filthy from sitting down here, you should change.” He was flustered and damn, he didn’t mean to say that aloud. “Um, never mind! Here, i’ll help you up.” he moved moderately closer to Rudyard, his hair disheveled and dirt smudged across his face, Chapman couldn’t help smiling at him.

He spoke softer this time, “There will be a Sherbet Dib-Dab waiting for you.” Rudyard took up the offer and with little effort, Rudyard was free from the grave. Chapman hoisted himself out of the grave and flattened his clothing, patting away any dirt that had stuck.

Chapman offered the sherbet to Rudyard who did not protest and sat in defeat, hoping to get what little happiness he could out of the small packet. While Rudyard was tucking in, Chapman smiled at him, watching him absentmindedly running a hand through his untamed hair. he picked up the shovel components and fitted them together. He held the shovel in Rudyard’s direction.

“Here, you better take this and get back to Funn Funerals.” Rudyard snapped out of his concentration and said “Thanks” as he took the shovel. Chapman still gripped the shovel, and pulled Rudyard towards him, their lips meeting for the first time. The sweet taste of sherbet apparently on his lips was the only reminder that they had connected.

Rudyard, in a daze, thanked Chapman for the afternoon, even though everything went horribly wrong for him, as always and wandered off. Chapman continued work, performing the funeral, which went to plan as expected. A taste of sherbet lingered a little longer than normal and the events made Chapman’s heart flutter.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic so i'm so sorry! If you were after something good, or fluffy, i'm sorry you ended up with this!  
> And if you made it this far down, CONGRATULATIONS! You earned a Sherbet Dib-Dab!


End file.
